In Order to Fix Something, It Must First Be Broken
by writeeofpassage
Summary: Tony attempts to prove to Loki that he is not the monster parents tell their children about at night. In fact, he is not a monster at all. Getting Loki to believe him, that's the tricky part.


**A/N:** I just started writing and this is what I ended up with. I may write a prequel because I do make references to Tony and Loki's previous relationship that only exists in my mind – so that kind of needs some explaining, as well as how the two got to the point of having this conversation. But for now, sadly, this is all I have.

**(Sometimes,) In Order to Fix Something, It Must First Be Broken**

Tony's eyes are surprisingly kind, surprisingly patient. The engineer is never patient, least of all with Loki.

And it angers him, this patience. He should hate him, he should yell, he should fight, he should do _anything_ except stare at Loki with that knowing expression, with that insufferable and undeserved _kindness_.

"I am a monster." Loki spits with conviction, because he does not need the human's pity, and even more so – he does not deserve it.

"Is that so?" Tony cocks his head gently to one side, calculating. His eyes scour every inch of the god's demeanour. Fist clenched tightly at his sides, shoulders braced, firm, proud. His eyes are green, shining brightly with uncontained anguish. Pain hovers at the edge of his being, precariously balanced, one wrong move, one sharp breath, and it will burst forth. And then, Tony realizes, Loki will be ruined. For one, beautiful moment, Loki will be raw, bare, exposed. And maybe, just maybe, that is exactly what the god needs.

"Yes." The word is harsh, a promise. Loki is convinced. "Inside and out," he growls.

The god's skin is pale. He's leaking, emotion seeping out of his pores. Pouring years of pain, and regret, and struggles out of his body. It flows off of him, permeating the air around him.

It's suffocating, Tony realizes, he can barely breath, consumed by the desperate cries that Loki silently screams, through the movements he makes, through the way he hold himself, through the words he whispers. Desperation. In all of them.

"Who are you trying to convince?" Tony murmurs, dryer than he intended, "Me? Or Yourself?"

"Do not doubt for a second that I know _exactly _what I am?"

"And what exactly are you, then?"

"I already told you," Loki growls, frustrated, "a monster!" The word is like poison, a truth he admits time and time again in order to relieve his body of the silent acid that creeps stealthily through his veins.

"No." Tony's voice is rough, thick with emotion he hadn't realized had taken over. "You are not a monster."

It feels like the right thing to say, that's why he says it. It also happens to be the truth.

The god's eyes, _fuck_ his damn gorgeous, tormented eyes, they snap to Tony's face. Confusion is laced deeply into his expression. It breaks Tony's heart when he realizes that Loki has probably never had anyone tell him that before. Has never had anyone believe in him. Has never had anyone fight for him, at least, not in the way they should. And it's fucking _sad_. Everyone, monster or not, evil or not, should have someone to fight for them.

Loki just stares at him, disbelieving. He probably won't allow himself to believe. One vaguely nice statement will not unwrite history, especially not a history full of sorrow, potently engraved on a young god's heart.

"I –," Loki opens his mouth to speak, but only a broken, bewildered hitch escapes. Tony can see the cogs working in the trickster's mind. He is thinking, unravelling the statement, searching it for truth.

Tony sees the moment when the god decides that he is telling the truth. Sees the way his eyes open impossibly wide and his bottom lip is caught worriedly between his teeth.

"I do not understand." The admittance is difficult, but necessary.

Tony – Man of Iron, Genius – He has no more words. He doesn't know what he can say, doesn't know what he can do. He feels helpless, and right now, Loki really needs his help, even if he doesn't want it.

"You're not a monster." Tony smiles cheekily, "Don't get me wrong, you're hardly a Good Samaritan, but you're not a monster." He pauses, purses his lips together tightly before continuing with a slight sigh, "I've known monsters, and I've known evil men, and you – you're just, trust me, you're not a monster."

He had, honestly, been hoping to say something a little more eloquent.

Loki doesn't understand. "I attacked your world – for pleasure. I killed your friend." Tony forces himself not to flinch. Forces himself not to react the way Loki is hoping he will. He has not forgotten Coulson, he will never forget Coulson. But Coulson isn't here right now. And Loki can, maybe, be saved. He will not be manipulated. "I forced Barton to submit to my will. I threw you out of a window!" Loki is visibly shaken as he finishes speaking. Tony just watches him, soft brown eyes refusing to get angry.

"Yes," he murmurs gently, "You did."

"Then how? How can you be so calm about this? How can you say I am not a monster after all I have done!" He is breathless as he forces the words desperately out of his mouth, as if trying to understand, meanwhile knowing he never will.

"Because, your actions are evil, monstrous even," he smiles sadly, "but that doesn't make _you _a monster."

The god has taken a step closer, a step towards Tony, a quiet, unconscious step towards salvation.

"What you did – it was terrible. And wrong. But, you, Loki, are more than the actions you have committed. They are a part of you, yes, but they are not who you are. I don't know you, not really, but if there's anything these last few days have shown me, it is that there is more to you than you let on. Maybe even more than you can see. There is good in you. More good than evil. And you are nothing close to resembling a monster."

Tony stops to observe Loki's behaviour. The god will no longer meet his eyes. He stares intently at the ground, not exactly the reaction Tony had been hoping for.

"Remember Voldemort?" He sees Loki's almost smile at the fond memory. "He's a villain. He's a monster. Driven solely by power and greed." Tony holds up a halting hand as he sees Loki open his mouth as if to protest. "You may be driven by poor motives, Loki, but that isn't all you are driven by. They aren't all that motivate you. You have pain. You have desperation."

Loki scoffs quietly and shakes his head.

"You do."

"I am a Frost Giant." The way the god says it breaks Tony's heart. It is said with a sense of bitter finality, as if Tony's words were all well and good, but now Loki's true argument had been made and there were no words that could make it better. No words that could erase the innate evil that ran through his despicable veins.

"So what?" The genius retorts with as much venom as he can muster. "You're a Frost Giant. All the monsters I've ever known have been human. They chose to be what they were. You Loki, everything is a choice. So far you haven't made extremely stellar choices, but there's still time to change that."

Tears are streaming from Loki's eyes now, he can't stop them, can't stop the shame flooding his face, he lowers his head even further.

Tony's having none of that. He reaches a hand forward stiffly and lightly grasps the god's smooth, pale chin. "Look at me," he murmurs. He won't force the god to look. Loki's had enough of people taking choice away from him.

The trickster slowly raises his head and Tony guides him slightly, never letting his face go. "Trust me when I say: You are not a monster." He brushes away a stray, warm tear. "Hey, would I lie to you?"

Loki laughs at that, a light scoff, a small smirk painting his lips. It's a relief. It's a sign that maybe something he has said has gotten through. "No Anthony, of course not."

And now it's Tony's turn to smile.

**Reviews are loved, though not expected. **


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